Peccadillo - A Katla Novel (Amsterdam Assassin Series Book 2) (19 page)

“He might not be willing to answer them, Ah Yun. Not without preamble.”

“How did he come upon the corpse?”

“I didn’t ask,” Bram replied. “And if you want to ask him that yourself, you need to be more forthcoming with your information.”

Tsui Pak Yun drew on his cigarette, the intake of breath followed by the grating of gravel from extinguishing the butt under his shoe. “This pendant is an identity card, disguised as an amulet. The symbol on the front is to distract from the inscription on the back, which identifies the bearer as an initiated member of the Kau Hong.”

“A triad?”

Tsui Pak Yun clicked his tongue in disapproval. “The Kau Hong are ordinary thugs, former street runners for the 14K. They copy the triad structure to keep their members in line and instill fear and respect in their victims, but they have no connections.”

“A rogue organisation?”

“They cause trouble, but not enough to warrant measures. Altogether they have about seventy members. Not much of an organisation.”

“You think so?” Bram asked. “What’s the normal amount?”

“The Dutch 14K branch has about two hundred members. And that’s a branch, not the whole organisation.”

“So, what are the Kau Hong into? Drugs, gambling, prostitution, extortion?”

“Fringe work. Strictly minor. The market is pretty much divided between Dai Huen Jai and 14K, so the Kau Hong are left with the crumbs that fall from the table.”

“Smuggling?” Bram inquired.

“Could be,” Tsui Pak Yun replied, lighting up a fresh cigarette. “What makes you think they’re smugglers?”

“Just guessing. If they would be, what would they use?”

“Means of transport, you mean?” He hawked and spat. “The airports are Dai Huen Jai territory and the 14K has the harbours tied up, so they’d have to smuggle over land.”

“Or smuggle past the smugglers.”

“How? They have no ships.”

“Or airplanes,” Bram added.

“Or airplanes, yes.”

“What would the 14K do if they found the Kau Hong had ships or airplanes?”

“Sabotage them,” Tsui Pak Yun spoke curtly. “Why?”

“I’ll ask my friend to contact you.” Bram rose from the bench. “You can keep the pendant to show the 14K.”

Tsui Pak Yun didn’t reply. Snorting didn’t count.
 

Bram walked away from the bench and switched off Katla’s voice recorder.

-o-

Lying in the aura of sweat and sex, huddled under the damp sheets, Bram breathed her scent, glad that Katla never used perfume to mask her fragrance.

“You think I can trust him?” Katla asked, drawing his arms tighter around her. He kissed the nape of her neck and murmured, “You have to take into account the kind of person he is. In Europe you have the werewolf, the loup garou. In Asia, you have the werefox, or kitsune. Whereas the loup garou is essentially evil, the kitsune is often benevolent, although he likes to deceive or play games. Tsui Pak Yun is like that, a wily old fox who likes to play games. Don’t underestimate him and you’ll have no trouble.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

“When we meet, he only takes Snoop, his guide dog, but I don’t know if he’ll come alone to a meet with you.”

“Guide dogs don’t attack people, do they?”

“They might be protective of their charge, but Snoop is gentle. If you don’t make sudden moves.”

“How blind is Yun?”

“Far beyond legal blindness. Or he wouldn’t have a dog.” Bram pointed at his ruined eyes. “Normal acuity is twenty-twenty vision. Legal blindness starts at 20/200, where you see at twenty centimeters what another person discerns at two meters. At which point you become eligible for disability benefits and are no longer allowed to operate vehicles.”

“But you don’t get a dog if you can still see that much.”

“With a mere four thousand guide dogs to be divided among two hundred thousand blind people, it’s unlikely that one would be granted to someone who’s merely extremely near-sighted.”

“Did you apply for a dog?”

“I don’t need one. I have Zeph.” He rubbed his nose through her hair. “And you.”

“A guide dog would give you a wider radius.”

“Probably, but have you ever smelled a dog after a rainstorm?”

“Seriously? That’s your reason for not applying for a guide dog?”

“Yes. Anyway, Tsui Pak Yun is not so discerning in the olfactory department, so you won’t have to do more than mask your scent with a little after shave lotion. Just make sure he doesn’t touch your skin.”

“You think he can guess my gender from my skin?”

“Female skin differs from male. And his sense of touch is better than mine.”

“I’ll give him wide berth.” She yawned audibly. “He’s that good?”

“He spends his life examining precious stones, Katla. And he is proficient at Braille, which is quite rare for someone who went blind at his age.”

“You’re proficient at Braille.”
 

“Learning Braille requires sensitive fingertips and dedicated exercise to built up sufficient speed to enjoy reading. Adults have to be motivated and train diligently to attain proficiency.”

“Well, you’re motivated enough to keep up your skills.”

“I’d learn Braille just to read martial arts texts without you or Zeph having to read it to me. When you read it yourself, you understand the meaning much better.”

Katla rolled on her side, her left hand reaching behind her and pulling at him until he spooned against her back. With her hand lingering on his buttocks she murmured, “Where does Yun get his information?”

“I think the 14K retains him in an advisory capacity. Like you do with me.”

“I ‘retain you in an advisory capacity’?”

“I’m not an active participant in your homicidal enterprise, but I counsel you in matters of strategy. You don’t have to take my advice, but neither would the 14K have to take Ah Yun’s.”

“Deep,” she murmured sleepily. “I hope it absolves your guilt.”

“I don’t feel guilt. I haven’t killed anyone.”

“It’s not the tool that kills, but the brain that moves the hand.”

“You killed twenty-seven people before I knew you. And the last two didn’t need much strategic assistance.”

“Nor did the sentry,” Katla murmured. “As long as his gun wasn’t centered on Zeph anymore when I attacked. Martial artists are rarely difficult to kill.”

“I thought it was easier to kill someone who didn’t know how to fight.”

“Trained fighters are predictable,” she replied sleepily. “They try to disable or maim and most of them have an inflated view of their abilities. Ordinary people get scared and their fear fuels their will to survive. And they might surprise you with their ingenuity.”

“And this sentry couldn’t?”

Katla didn’t reply, her breathing slowing down, growing deeper. Like her sentient self slipped away. One moment she was there, the next he spooned against a warm husk. Her head, heavy with sleep, hindered the circulation in his biceps and his fingers started to tingle. Bram retracted his arm and rolled on his back.

Strange, how he felt guiltier about forgetting to count the sentry than about him getting killed. Katla often consulted him in strategic matters, but the decision to kill remained exclusively her own. What worried him was the ease with which she chose to kill over other options. Maybe killing got easier after a while, but the taking of a life should never become perfunctory.

Katla murmured unintelligibly and turned around, her arm snaking over his chest as she buried her head under his armpit, her breath tickling against his ribs. He caressed her face, his fingers gliding over her smooth brow.

What bliss, not having a conscience wearing you down.

Katla parked her Burgman near one of the bicycle racks bracketing the square between the Beurs, which housed the non-virtual part of the Amsterdam Exchange, and the Bijenkorf, an upscale department store similar to Harrods in London and Bloomingdale’s in New York City. She entered the huge department store, aptly named The Beehive, and went straight to the perfume department, where she skirted the sickly sweet female fragrances counter and stopped by the after shave section. On the glass counter various testers of men’s scents were displayed. The girl behind the counter was talking to her co-worker, not paying her any attention as Katla took a small reddish-brown flask, sniffed the inside of the cap, and sprayed some after shave lotion behind her ears. Before the sales girl could try to sell her something, Katla turned on her heel and stalked away to the leather goods department near the opposite entrance, close to the Dam Square.

About fifteen minutes before their appointment a wizened old Chinese man wearing wraparound black glasses entered De Bijenkorf through the Dam Square entrance, guided by a black Labrador and followed by a young Chinese man. Katla tracked Tsui Pak Yun and his minder up the escalators to the restaurant on the fifth, where the old blind man sat down in the last booth on the left. The dog slipped under the table as the young man pressed the frail old man’s hand and walked away. Katla followed the minder to the escalators, where the young man went down one floor and walked past the books and magazines to the Literary Café. Shielded behind a Cosmopolitan, Katla watched him buy a cappuccino, sit down at a table and pull out a PDA device. She put the Cosmo back in the rack and took the escalator back to the fifth floor.

Tsui Pak Yun hadn’t moved from his perch. Katla strolled past him and checked her exits, then turned to his booth. He looked even frailer up close, his wrinkled hands covered with liver spots, his cheeks were deeply lined and his white goatee sparse but immaculate maintained. The available space in the booth would put her with her back to the escalators. She switched on her voice recorder and cleared her throat to lower her voice.
 

“
Ni hao
, Ah Yun.”

“
Ni hao
.” The old man tilted his face in her direction, eyes hidden behind the wraparound sunglasses. “Are you Bram’s friend?”

“Remove your sunglasses,” Katla spoke. “Show me your eyes.”

The old man’s eyes, half covered by nearly translucent eyelids with epicanthic folds, were pale and unfocused. She had no way to check if he was truly blind, but he didn’t seem to be faking it.

“Thank you,” Katla said. “Slide over to the other side of the booth and take your dog with you. I need a clear view of the restaurant.”

The old man did as he was ordered. “You sound comfortable around blind people.”

“Or I could just not care about your affliction.” Katla sat down and put the voice recorder between them to record the conversation. “It’s your cross to bear, not mine. Do you carry a cell phone?”

“Why?”

“Hand it over.”

Tsui Pak Yun took a battered Nokia from his pocket and held it out to her. Katla took it from his fingers, clicked off the back casing and removed the battery. “I’ll re-assemble your phone after the meeting.”

“You sound a tad paranoid.”

“More than a tad,” Katla said. “You wanted to ask me some questions?”

Tsui Pak Yun took out the pendant, placed it slowly on the table. “Bram told me you took this from a corpse.”

“I did.”

“How did you come upon the corpse?”

Katla watched his fingers caressing the pendant. “Why do you want to know?”

Tsui Pak Yun shook his head. “Don’t worry about repercussions. I assure you that we are not troubled by this person’s death.”

“With ‘we’, you mean the 14K?”

He nodded. “Bram told you about the Kau Hong?”

“Thugs, formerly associated with your affiliate, the 14K.”

Tsui Pak Yun held up his hand. “It’s important to know that they’re not a real triad.”

“I get it. They do not uphold the lofty principles of the honourable 14K.”

“Your sarcasm is misplaced.”

“Is it? The 14K is a criminal organisation, Ah Yun. So is the Kau Hong.” The old man was about to protest, but Katla continued, “I do realise that you are at odds with each other. So my problem with the Kau Hong does not extend to the 14K.”

“We are, as you say, at odds with the Kau Hong.” The old man put his hands palm up on the table. “You seem to be at odds with them too. My enemy’s enemy can be my ally.”

“The 14K needs allies against a group of rogue smugglers?”

Tsui Pak Yun sucked in his lower lip, the sparse white hair of his goatee bristling out. “I was talking about you needing allies. The Kau Hong can be a formidable enemy.”

“So far, they’ve been bothersome rather than formidable. I might be able to solve this matter without resorting to alliances with other criminal organisations.”

“You might be underestimating the Kau Hong.”

“My client’s respectable, legitimate business would be ruined by associating with either the Kau Hong or the 14K,” Katla said. “Exchanging one for the other would be futile.”

Tsui Pak Yun took a deep breath. “No offence, but you don’t sound like a law-abiding citizen either, taking pendants from corpses.”

“I can easily pass for respectable and legitimate, whereas you can’t.”

Tsui Pak Yun tilted his head. “Is that why your client hired you?”

“Plus I get things done. One way, or the other.”

“So you’re a ‘fixer’, mister—?”

“Loki.”

His half-lidded eyes widened. “Loki? You—”

“Yes, I thinned your ranks a few years ago. Although I didn’t learn of their affiliation to the 14K until afterward.”

“Not that that knowledge would’ve held you back.” Pearls of sweat trickled down Tsui Pak Yun’s temple. “I heard you don’t take meetings.”

“Not with people who can identify me, no. Your minder better stays downstairs until I’m gone.”

The frail old man was still too pale, but Katla didn’t know how to put him at ease. She didn’t want him to have a seizure, though.

“There’s no need to be scared,” she spoke softly. “You’re a friend of Bram and you’re not on my list.”

“Would you tell me if I was?”

“No, you’d be dead. And you’re not, so relax.”

The old man covered one shaking hand with another. “So… your client hired you to kill the Kau Hong?”

“I’m hired to remove the threat and limit negative publicity.”